Unthinkable
by Suni-Dlight
Summary: Hermione Granger is a very successful Auror put in charge of bringing down the Poison Apple Killer, a psycho who leaves apples in his victims hands and poison in their mouth. But what happens when the case gets a little too personal?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**A/N: So, I am hoping all of you out there in computer land are like 'YES!! ANOTHER HERMIONE AND DRACO STORY FROM SUNI-DLIGHT!' I hope you'll like this one just as you liked 'The Worse Job' and 'Working it Out'. You guys are fabulous and enjoy.**

* * *

Hermione took a deep breath, staring at the front door of a very familiar house.

_I can do this, I can do this._.

She had gotten the owl, the address, and she had shown up. This was her job, what she was supposed to do. Taking one more deep breath, she pushed open the door, assuming the look of indifference and a feeling of distance.

Aurors roomed in and out of the rooms of the house, glancing in her direction apprehensively. She was, after all, Hermione Granger, not to be cocky or anything. People knew her by name, by sight. . . . She was, for lack of better word, popular.

"Granger."

She turned around to face Draco Malfoy. Over the past couple of years since school let out and Malfoy had left the Death Eaters, the two had grown to . . . tolerate one another, though they really had no choice.

"You two make a great team," everyone had always said. Even Harry had said it, though he hated to admit it. Ron, of course, was still in denial.

And Hermione admitted they worked well together. Her with her book smarts and intuitive nature and him with his sharp tongue and wit. So they became a team 'on the force' and it was actually working out.

"Malfoy," Hermione greeted.

"What are you doing here?" Malfoy asked, frowning.

"My job," Hermione said. "And I'm sure that's what you're here for too."

"I just – didn't think they would send you. First Potter, now you. Isn't this case a little too personal?"

"Where's the scene, Malfoy?"

Sighing, Malfoy turned, motioning for Hermione to follow him to the bedroom. "Boyfriend found her this way when he came home from Quidditch Practice. She was dressed in a white nightgown, lip gloss applied to the lips post-mortem, just like the others we've seen. Boyfriend says he tried to wake her but his fingerprints are the only ones we can find. He recognized the pattern and Apparate to the Ministry to call it in."

"Where's the boyfriend?" Hermione asked.

"In the kitchen with Potter, being questioned. . . . You ready for this Granger?"

They stood outside the bedroom door, the crime scene. Not giving herself a moment to think it over, Hermione nodded. Malfoy pushed open the door.

Luna Lovegood lay on the bed just as Malfoy had described. Her bright blue eyes stared out blankly at the ceiling and she lay still as the photographer moved around her. Her hands lay on her stomach with an apple placed between them, a piece cut out of it as if it had been bitten.

"What've we got, Seamus?" Hermione asked.

Seamus looked up from his place beside the bed, peeling his gloves from his hands. "A guy who knows his shit, is what we've got here. Once again, there's no bloody evidence except for the fact that it's the same poison. Window was open, everything set out exactly the same as the others. Damn it. Why'd it have to be Luna?"

Colin Creevey lowered his camera, shaking his head. "The Poison Apple killer strikes again. That's the seventh one in the last three months.. Merlin, this guy, is good."

"Brilliant is more like it," Hermione said, shaking her head in disgust. "What do you think the chances are that one day, this guy will slip up?"

"With any luck he might have slipped up today," Malfoy said.

Hermione shot him a glare, spinning on her heel and heading out of the room. "I'm going to see how Harry's getting around with the boyfriend."

Hermione sighed as Malfoy followed her out of the room. "I'm going to have to tell the chief to take you off this case," he said.

"What?" Hermione said, spinning around to face him. "Why?"

"Because you're too into your feelings, Granger," he said, angrily. "If he turns out to be the killer of this one, then that means he killed them all."

"He's got an alibi, Malfoy."

"He _says_ he was at Quidditch Practice. And until we can get that confirmed, he's a suspect and you're just going to have to accept that."

"And you're going to have to accept that he's my friend and I have good reason to believe he's not guilty. This is my case too, Malfoy, like it or not. I want to stop this creep just as much as you do. I'm in this, Malfoy. Just – just give me a break alright."

Together, the two walked back down the stairs to the kitchen. Hermione swallowed because she could already hear his voice, pleading with Harry.

"I didn't do it, Harry! You know me! I loved her! Why would I kill Luna?

"You tell me," Malfoy said as they stepped into the kitchen.

"Hermione!" Ron said, jumping to his feet and rushing towards her. "Hermione, please, you've got to tell them that it wasn't me! I didn't kill Luna! You know I didn't!"

Hermione looked around to Malfoy and Harry. "Could you guys just give us a minute please?"

Harry nodded but Malfoy frowned, shaking his head. "Just exactly what are you going to –"

"Malfoy, I've been your partner for five years now, all right? Just trust me."

Malfoy grunted, leaving the room with Harry, who stopped in the doorway. "Call me if you need anything, all right?"

Hermione nodded and Harry left the room. Taking his hand, Hermione led Ron to the kitchen table and sat down. His eyes were tinged with red and were tired. Hermione placed a comforting hand over his.

"Hermione, I didn't do it," Ron said.

"Shh, shh, Ron, I know," Hermione said. "So I need you to explain to me what exactly happened, all right?"

"I – I left for Quidditch Practice after dinner with – with Luna like I always do on Saturdays. It was a really late practice because we have a game tomorrow so I didn't get home until going on three o' clock in the morning. The lights were off and everything so I figured Luna had just gone to sleep. I went back to the room and the first thing I realized was that the window was open and Luna hated going to bed with the window open. I flipped on the light and I saw the apple and the nightgown and – I tried not to move her, I just . . . I couldn't believe she was dead. . . . Is it the same? As the others?"

"Yes. So you understand why this is such a big deal, right?"

"They think I killed all those other girls too, don't they."

"Yes, but not for long, all right? But for right now, you're going to have to come with us and . . . and spend some time in Azkaban until we can talk to your coach and get your alibi to come through."

"You'll get me out of this, won't you, Hermione?"

". . . . I'm going to try. But I'm not going to lie to you Ron, this doesn't look good."

Ron sighed, standing to his feet. He looked determined now. "Yeah I know. But I trust you, Hermione. You're the best."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**A/N: Hey, so I'm really glad I got a lot of good results on this story. You guys are some fabulous people. Thanks so, so much. BTW, there will times and points in this story where comic relief will take place (such as this chapter). I figured you'd need something to cheer you up a little after the horrifyingly sad first chapter. Thanks you guys are great.**

* * *

Hermione stuck her head into the office, a smile on her face. "You wanted to see me, Sir?"

Chief Patrick O' Shay stood to his feet, smiling back at her. "Yes, Hermione. Come on in."

Hermione did so, closing the door behind her and sitting down in a chair. Newly appointed and very young, Patrick O' Shay was one of the best Chief Aurors they've ever had. He was precise, witty, and quick, which made a brutal combination when it came to the cases he was asked to solve. Patrick was also one of Hermione's closest friends, not including Harry and Ron, of course. And she realized that this was going to be a personal meeting as soon as the smile slid from Patrick's face and he sat himself on the edge of his desk.

"Are you all right?" he asked, quietly.

Hermione sighed, letting herself slump slightly into the chair as she raised a hand to her head. "Getting there," she said, truthfully. "I think seeing her like that, even if there wasn't any blood or anything, was worse. Seeing her with her eyes wide open and that damn apple. It was more proof that I can't catch this madman and now, my friend is gone."

Patrick was silent for a moment, until he sighed also, placing his hand on Hermione's soldier. "I think I'm going to take you off the Poison-Apple Killer case."

"What?" Hermione said, jumping to her feet as he moved back behind his desk. "No, Pat, you can't do that! I have to catch Luna's killer."

"And that is exactly why I have to take you off the case. It's gotten too personal. You'll drive yourself crazy over it. Take a rest, Hermione, your friend's just died and her boyfriend is still sitting in Azkaban. I'll put you on a smaller case for right now, let Malfoy and Potter take care of this thing."

"No, Patrick, please. I can handle this, I swear. I won't let my feelings get in the way. Please, Pat. Don't take this case away from me."

Patrick frowned, staring at her and looking slightly annoyed. He sighed again, saying, "Fine. Fine. But on one condition: Malfoy is in charge of this case for now. Think you can handle that."

As much as she hated having to follow orders from Malfoy, Hermione nodded. "Fine. That's fine with me."

"Good. Now, go get some work done."

Hermione smiled, turning towards the door. It was just like Pat to call her into his office and then tell her she was wasting time.

She pulled open the door, stepping through to find Malfoy on the other side. Smirking, she closed the door behind her. "Eavesdropping?"

"Waiting for my own meeting, thanks," Malfoy said, smirking. "But I did happen to catch a couple of things. Was I mistaken or did I hear Hermione Granger beg?"

Hermione frowned, pushing past him. "Get out of my face, Malfoy."

"What?" Malfoy said, following after her. "I would take that as a compliment if I were you. You begging makes you seem a lot less tough, more human and less of a ball-buster. You do realize that's your nickname around here, don't you? 'Ball-Buster Granger'."

"People do not call me that."

"Want to bet?" Malfoy stopped just outside the open door of an office where Harry sat doing some paperwork. "Hey Potter, don't we call Hermione 'Ball-Buster Granger' around."

A small smile came to Harry sad face and he laughed, saying. "Oh yeah. When did we start that? 'Ball-Buster –"

He stopped as soon as he looked up and saw Hermione standing there, a scowl on her face. His face went rather pale as he reached for his wand. "Er, I'm not at liability to answer that question at the moment."

And with a flick of his wand he shut the door.

Malfoy smirked at her as she huffed and walked away from him towards her office. "Don't you have a meeting?" she said, as he began to follow her again.

"Lied," he said, chuckling.

"Do you get some sick enjoyment out of torturing me, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, spinning around to face him.

"You know it. My own personal sick kick."

"Yeah, well, go get your kicks somewhere else. I've got work to do."

"Work, work, work. Is that all you ever do? Don't you ever do anything fun?"

Hermione frowned as he sat down on the end of her desk. "I could bust your balls for fun."

"Thanks but no thanks, even though I know how much you'd love to bust my balls, Granger," Malfoy said smirking. "I'm taken at the moment."

"Who's the slut for this week?"

"Why do you always call them sluts? I'd prefer to call her . . . 'the Lady of the Evening'."

"So she's a prostitute, then? She gives you what you want, you pay them in jewels, fancy parties, and murmured endearments and then drop 'em off at the next corner, right. Tell me Draco, when was the last time you actually counted your STD's?"

"Why are you always so interested in my love life?"

"Because I _so_ want to be part of it. I fantasize about you every night, thinking of all the wonderful STD's we can share."

"I knew you wanted me. . . . But, in all seriousness, I believe it is because you have no love life of your own."

"If it is any of your business, I have a date tonight."

Malfoy threw his hand to his heart and pretended to stagger into the chair in front of her desk. "Do my ears deceive me? Did Hermione Granger just say that she was going out on a date?"

"Are you always so dramatic?"

"So," Malfoy said, leaning forward. "Who's the poor fellow who will get the extreme pleasure of listening to you drone on about House-elves?"

"Merlin, you're as bad as Ginny. Besides, you wouldn't know him even if I told you his name; he's a Muggle. And we've actually been dating for a while now and –"

Malfoy groaned. "Oh please, spare me the horrifying details. I didn't actually want to know. Only you would take a rhetorical question and answer it. And only you would be the one to date a Muggle."

"What's wrong with dating a Muggle? I seem to recall you asking me for my friend's number."

"That was before I realized she was a Muggle. Purebloods are going to die out soon if people like you continuing dating Muggles."

"It wouldn't matter anyway; I'm Muggleborn remember. And besides, _magic's _going to fade away either way if people like _you_ keep dating _Purebloods_. Soon, you all will be related."

"Whatever Granger." Malfoy stood to his feet, straightening out his robes. "Oh, and by the way, since I am now officially in charge of the PAK case, I'm ordering you to get me a cup of coffee and start looking through the pictures of the murder victims, see if you can't find something that sticks out."

"If I get you a cup of coffee, it's going to be scalding hot," Hermione said, frowning. "And it's going to end up on your lap. And I'm pretty sure you want to have kids, right?"

Malfoy winced, slightly. "That hot?"

"That hot."

"Well, fine, just start looking through those pictures." Malfoy turned, heading out of her office.

"And what are you going to be doing?" Hermione called.

"Counting my STD's, if it's any of your business."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. It was times like this when Hermione was actually glad that Malfoy was her partner. Their daily banters made a dull day seem better. And she supposed, if anything, she could call him a friend.

Even if he was a dung-headed bastard.

Sighing, Hermione got to her feet to go retrieve the file pictures.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**A/N: Sorry it has taken me a while to update. I've been busy getting ready for finals and stuff and packing because I'll be able to go home for the first time in four months!! So, anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thanks for reading.**

* * *

Hermione smiled as her date resumed his seat in front of her, reaching across to take her hand.

"I hope I didn't have you waiting to long, darling," he said, grinning.

"Of course not, dear," Hermione said, taking in the sight of him for the thousandth time since the started dating.

Richard Bosley was handsome; there was no doubt about it. He gazed at her intently with foggy gray eyes behind square spectacles as he ran his hand through his wavy brown hair.

Hermione often wondered how she managed to catch the eye of a guy like Richard Bosley. He was suave, intelligent, well-built . . . and most importantly, he was the kindest man Hermione was sure she'd ever met. He was everything a woman can ask for.

"Our year, anniversary," Richard said, sighing. "I can't believe it's been a year since I met you at that bookstore."

"Ran into me is more like it," Hermione said, laughing.

"Hey, I wasn't the one carry a tower of books that stacked above my head."

"Well, you know how much I love my books."

"Yes, I do. And I know that it was destiny for us to meet. We should celebrate. How about some wine?"

"Sounds lovely."

Richard grinned, raising his hand above his head and signaling to the waiter.

"How may I serve you sir?" the primed waiter said.

"We'd like a bottle of your finest wine, if you please," Richard said.

"Right away, sir." The waiter left, leaving Richard and Hermione to continue to gaze at each other.

Hermione didn't know or dwell much on destiny, but she did know that Richard seemed to just be right for her. After many unsuccessful attempts at a love life with other men, Richard was like a miracle above all miracles. He was . . . perfect.

The waiter approached them again, turning to pour the wine into two separate glasses. "Here you go, sir . . . ma'am."

When the waiter was gone, Richard raised his glass, a soft smile on his face. "To us. To a lifetime."

Hermione smiled back, curling her fingers around the stem of her glass and lifting it. "To a–"

She froze, her eyes widening as she caught sight of what she had originally thought to be a piece of ice.

"Oh . . . Richard," Hermione said, setting her glass back down. Using a fork she lifted the ring from the glass placing it in her palm. The gold band sparkled in light but the three diamonds attached to the middle of shined with brilliance. "Oh my god, Richard, it's amazing! I – I don't know what to say."

He took the ring from hand and took her left hand in his. "Just say yes."

Hermione felt breathless for a moment, overwhelmed by the sudden proposal. But, she knew what was right and she knew what she wanted.

"Yes!" she said happily. "Yes of course!"

Richard grinned, slipping the ring onto her fourth finger as he leaned across the table to kiss her.

The night was perfect.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I disclaim everything that is without a doubt not mine.**

* * *

"Hey, Hermione. Just wanted to come by and see if you – Oh my gosh, look at the size of that rock!"

Ginny Weasley ran forward and practically flung herself over Hermione's desk to grab her left hand. Hermione shook her head at the younger girl's antics, smiling. It didn't matter because right now, she felt like the happiest person in the world.

"Oh you're so totally going to Diagon Alley with me for lunch now," Ginny said, leaning back. "I cannot believe this! Get up! Get up this instant!"

Hermione laughed as she was forced to her feet and out her door, barely having time to grab her robe. "Where are we eating?" Hermione asked.

"Oh it doesn't even matter now, because the engagement dinner I through for you is going to pale in comparison to all other meals you have from this point on!"

* * *

They ended up getting lunch at this small bistro in Diagon Alley. They went there often, having quickly made it their favorite place to lunch. Ginny could be found their most though, being pregnant and on maternity leave from work which made her days 'incredibly dreadful'.

"So is it that mystery guy?" Ginny asked, over her soup. "Richard Bosley? The one who never wants to come around for dinner?"

"It's not that he doesn't want to come to dinner," Hermione said. "He's just been incredibly busy as of late. But of course it is. Who else would have gotten engaged to suddenly, Ginny?"

Ginny shrugged, her cheeks turning slightly red. Hermione pursed her lips, suspiciously. "Ginerva –"

"So how have the guys taken to your engagement?" Ginny said, smiling.

"I haven't exactly told Harry yet," Hermione said, still staring at her friend's weird behavior. "I was going to tell him after work."

"What about Malfoy?"

Hermione's eyes opened wide when she realized what her friend had been getting at in the first place. "Ginny!"

"What?" Ginny said, shrugging innocently. "I thought you and him were real close and we all –"

"'We all'?"

"Oh, you know, the boys and I. We had a bit on when you guys might hook up. The way you two act around each other sometimes. . . ."

"How do we act?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "You mean you really don't notice?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You and Malfoy flirt like there is no tomorrow!"

"_What_? We – we do not flirt?"

" 'I could bust your balls for fun'? 'Thanks but no thanks, even though I know how much you'd love to bust my balls'? You guys might have well have just done it in your office."

"How did you hear about that?"

"I was on my way to ask you to lunch that day but you were . . . busy. I didn't eavesdrop long. . . . Just long enough to hear something about STDs of some sort and sharing them."

"You're really looking to much into this. I mean, what kind of people would flirt and call each other by their last names?"

"Weird people. And trust me, you and Malfoy are definitely weird. But that's besides the point, Hermione! Can't you tell he likes you? And you really like him too, I swear!"

"You make it sound as if we're still in school."

"Sometimes you guys still act like you were in school."

"Trust me, Ginny, I think I'd realize if I had some sort of . . . unrequited feelings of love for Draco Malfoy, which I most certainly do not have because he is an insufferable git on the best of days and a complete wanker on the worst."

"But, Hermione –"

"I'm going to say this one last time and then we're moving onto a totally different subject, Ginny Weasley. _Hmm, Hmm_. . . . I, Hermione Granger, have never, do not, and will never having any type of feelings for one, Draco Malfoy."

"But --"

"End of discussion. . . . How's the baby?"

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. I'm going to start writing A/N's down here now. OH and Teasers!**

"_Rings like that are just an excuse for you not to be able to do anything you want to do."_

**Hope you enjoyed. Bye!!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Harry Potter. **

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"So how's Weasley doing?" Draco said as Potter came and sat down in the break room with me. 

"Oh, he's fine," Potter said, sitting down in front of him, a cup of coffee in his hand. "I mean, you know, considering he's just gotten out of Azkaban but he's fine. Won't be though, as soon as he hears about Hermione. He'll be fairly upset he didn't get to interrogate this guy."

"Guy?" Draco asked, confused. "What guy? What about Granger?"

"You guys talking Hermione's big news?" Seamus Finnigan said, walking into the break room with Dean Thomas.

"What big news?" Draco asked, getting frustrated. The other two men sat down, grinning cheekily.

"You mean, Hermione hasn't told her own partner the big news?" Thomas said, sipping on his pop.

"What big news?"

"_The _big news," Finnigan said, clearly enjoying himself. "The news that'll change our lives, or at least Hermione's forever."

"Will you just tell me this amazing news already?"

Finnigan and Thomas laughed, obviously amused at tormenting their new friend. Potter rolled his eyes, saying, "Hermione's tying the knot with her boyfriend."

Draco, who'd gone to take a sip of his drink, nearly choked. Sputtering, he said, "She_what_?"

"Tying the knot, Malfoy," Finnigan said, still laughing. "Don't you get it?"

"She's jumping the broom," Thomas supplied, joining in.

"Buying a house."

"Tying herself down."

"She's gettin' married!" the two cried together, falling into fits of laughter, Thomas spilling pop down his front.

Draco frowned. Since when had Granger found someone to tie down with? He remembered her mentioning she had a date yesterday, with some Muggle, but had she ever mentioned how long they had been dating? He was sure it hadn't been long enough for them to be getting _married_.

"What's the matter, Malfoy?" Finnigan said, smirking. "You jealous."

"Jealous? Of Granger? I think not."

"I didn't say you were jealous of Hermione. I think you're jealous of the man she's getting married to."

Draco laughed. "Think again, Finnigan. There's no way I'd be jealous of either one of the two 'newlyweds'."

"Ah, come on, Malfoy," Potter said. "You make marriage sound like disease."

"Because it is. Marriage is just a way for the world to get rid of single people."

"Yeah, well, these single people obviously want to be together," Thomas said, smiling. "You should have seen the size of the rock Granger's fiancé gave her. It was huge! Three diamonds and fourteen Karat gold"

Draco scoffed, lifting his feet up onto an empty chair. "Rings like that is just an excuse for you not to be able to do what you want anymore."

The other three men groaned, frustrated.

"Malfoy you can't possibly tell me that you haven't thought about marriage at least once, maybe twice," Potter said.

"Never once and most definitely not twice," Draco said, amused at how persistent they were. "I'm perfectly happy with my single life. I can have anything I want without the consistent nagging of a woman hanging off my arm. At least with the women I date, I only have to deal with that for an evening. Imagine having to deal with it for the rest of how long or until you can't stand it anymore and you get a divorce."

"But what about kids?" Thomas said. "Surely you want to continue the Malfoy line."

Draco laughed, startling his friends. "Why on earth would I want to have little monsters and demons running around my feet? Pooping and crying, crying and eating, eating and pooping . . . I don't think I have enough patience to deal with that."

"I don't think it'll be so bad," Potter said, smiling.

"Oh, you say that now Potter, because that thing you'll call your son or daughter is still in Ginny's stomach for a couple of more months. But wait until it arrives and I bet you'll be wishing you hadn't had so much fun on your honeymoon."

"So that's it, then?" Finnigan said. "Bachelor Malfoy for life?"

"Bachelor for life. Better that then being tied down like the rest of you. If you can handle it, more power to you. But for me? No thanks. I just feel bad for whoever Granger managed to snag."

Finnigan laughed. "It's still hard to believe Ball-Buster Granger managed to snag a guy, you know? I thought all men were scared of her."

"Come on, you guys," Potter said, despite the grin on his face. "Hermione's not that bad, I'm sure."

"You only say that because you've got to deal with a pregnant Ginny," Thomas said. "Compared to her, Hermione looks like an angel."

Just then the door opened, and, naturally, the two women of their conversation walked into the room, their laughter faltering at the swift realization that they had been the subjects of a very amusing conversation.

Draco's eyes landed on Granger's fourth finger, where a large ring did sit prettily on her slim digit. For reasons he couldn't fathom, a slight frown came to his face as she moved towards the refrigerator with what appeared to be leftovers, her ring glinting in the light.

"Boys," she said, looking around suspiciously.

"Hermione," the other three men said, casting their gazes downward to avoid that of 'Ball-Buster Granger'.

"Granger," Draco said, nodding.

"Malfoy," she said, back. She looked as if she almost cracked a small smile, but, after a quick glance at the Ginny Potter, she faltered, quickly stuffing her food into the fridge and hurrying out the door, mentioning something about walking Ginny out.

As soon as the door closed, the other men relaxed with a sigh of relief. Draco shook his head. "You three are pathetic."

"Either that or you're just the only guy Hermione's soft on," Finnigan said, smiling.

"Hmm," Thomas said, joining in. "Wonder why that is?"

"You do know what they say about inter-office relationships, don't you?" Finnigan chided.

I frowned again, pushing back my chair and tossing my coffee cup into the garbage.

"Aww come on, Malfoy," Potter said, grinning. "Don't let these two gits make you storm out."

"Probably going to go confess his undying love to Hermione, and ask her to cancel her wedding," Finnigan said laughing.

"Granger and I share a very professional relationship, Finnigan," Draco said, his voice prim. "Unlike you and your secretary, that is."

Draco smirked as Finnigan blushed a bright red and Potter and Thomas fell over with laughter. Draco nodded, moving out the door, the smirk on his falling back to a frown. What on earth was so great about marriage and why was everyone so quick to go with it? All that led to was screaming kids and a crazy woman following you around everyday.

Who on earth would want that?

Draco stopped short as he neared Granger's office. She was humming. As he passed, he saw through his window that she looked incredibly happy, practically skipping around her office.

If possible, Draco felt his frown slip further.

What on earth was so great about marriage?

* * *

**A/N: I could have sworn i already posted this chapter. Innyhoo, just wanted to say sorry for the wait and i hope you enjoyed this chapter. Now it's Teaser Time.**

_'I know all, I've done all, I see all. . . . I even see you, Auror Hermione.'_

**Kinda creepy, huh? innyhoo, hope you enjoyed and i'll see you next chapter.****  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

* * *

"So, word on the street is Granger's hooked herself a guy."

Hermione looked up to see Malfoy leaning against the doorframe to her office. She attempted to frown at him, but the fact that she was so happy continued to make her smile. "Merlin, news travels fast. We've only just gotten engaged."

"Is it that Muggle you told me about?" Hermione smirked at the frowning man in her doorway.

"What? Don't you approve?" she asked.

"It just seems odd that you've only just mentioned dating the guy yesterday and now you're engaged."

"I also told you yesterday that we've been dating for a while now and it's gotten kind of serious."

"How come none of us have met him before?"

Hermione took a moment to straighten the pictures of the victims on her desk. "I haven't exactly told him that I was a witch yet."

Malfoy snorted, the frown on his face slipping up into a smirk. "What? Don't think he'll approve?"

"No, it's not that. . . . Just it's not the type of thing you start out a conversation with, but. . . . Oh, just go away, Malfoy. I've got work to do."

Malfoy left, laughing to himself.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she got up from her desk, gathering the pictures and putting them in her briefcase. What a ferret! Where did he get off questioning her, eh? It was none of his business who she dated and didn't date.

But then again . . . she had tried to make it his business the other day. . . .

Hermione shook her head, walking towards the Apparation points. He was so stubborn. . . .

* * *

At home, in her flat, Hermione prepared a cup of tea and sat down at her kitchen table, her legs curled up under her, her hair up in a messy ponytail, and the pictures spread out in front of her.

Seven women, seven deaths. . . .

Hermione's fingers trailed across Luna's picture, sadly. She couldn't help but put the blame on herself, as she did with many of the victims. She could have stopped this, could have saved them. . . .

She shifted through the pictures again, frustrated. This guy was too good, way too good. No clues, no hidden secrets. . . . How on earth where they going to catch this guy?

A lot of serial killers, she had read, left clues behind, sort of like a puzzle for those chasing after him. But whoever she was chasing acted as if he were completely some sort of sacred mission that he absolutely refused to leave unfinished.

Hermione jumped as her phone rang, blaringly loud in the silence of her house. She picked it up, saying, "Hello?"

There was silence. Hermione's ears pricked at the excited breathing on the other end. "Who is this?"

"Who would you like it to be, Auror Granger?" the voice said. It was deep and hoarse and . . . unnaturally scary. A shiver ran up Hermione's spine. "Who is this? Tell me now."

"Oh, come on Hermione. You're much smarter than this; I know you are. Been working hard to meet me, so here's your chance."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. "You're the Poison Apple Killer."

The man, she believed, laughed. "That was a very ingenious name you all came up with for me, truly."

"What do you want? Why are you contacting me now?"

"You seem like a girl truly intent on solving puzzles, but you're incredibly stuck on this one. So, I decided, maybe I'd help you out."

"So that you'll get caught?"

The man laughed again. "Oh, you won't catch me. But this will make it so much more fun for me. . . . You should probably look at those pictures a little closer."

Hermione stiffened in her chair, shifting her eyes just ever so slightly. Once again, the man laughed. "Did I scare you, Hermione?"

"Where are –?"

"No, no, no, Hermione. You don't need to know where I am. Just know that I've done all, I know all, I see all. . . . I even see you, Hermione."

Hermione jumped from her chair, moving to her kitchen window. She peeped out the blinds to the windows across the street and to the street down below. "Why are you doing this?"

"To prove a point."

"Which would be?"

"That all witches are nothing but scum."

"So you're a Muggle then?"

"I'm not letting you get that close, Hermione."

"Why witches, then?"

"Because you think you're better than everyone else."

Hermione paused for a moment, closing the blinds to her window and stepping back. "Why Luna?"

She knew he knew what she meant when he laughed again. "To get your attention."

* * *

**A/N: Creepy, huh? Anyway, sorry it took me so long to update. I hope you enjoyed. Oh, here's your teaser.**

"_I found it! I found the clue!"_

**Whoa!!! Bet you can't wait to find out what the clue is, huh? Stay tuned.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

* * *

Hermione sat her desk much like she had at her kitchen table, feet curled up beneath her with the pictures spread out in front of her. Only this time, Malfoy sat on the other side of the desk, staring down at the pictures.

"What exactly are we supposed to be looking for, Granger?" he asked for the seventh time.

"I've told you already," she said, exasperated. "We're looking for some clue, Malfoy, any clue. Something that will trigger me to the way this guy is targeting witches."

She reached into a drawer of her desk, pulling out the victims' family responses, rifling through them. 'She was a happy person, always. . . .', 'She was ill and that's why I went. . . .', 'She's been really grumpy lately, and so I. . . ."

"How can you even be sure that it was the PAK that called you last night, anyway?" Malfoy asked, taking the responses from her. "This case has been all over the Daily Prophet. . . . It could be any reject looking for some sick kicks. I told you to take your name out of that damn Muggle phonebook."

"That's just it. Because he called my phone, we automatically assume that he's a Muggle. But even wizards can learn how to pick up a phone and dial some numbers. It's not as hard as you'd wish to believe it is." Hermione reached into another drawer, pulling out the pictures given to her by the families and laid them next to their crime scene photos.

"Hush," Hermione said, as Malfoy opened his mouth to retort. "I think I'm getting something."

She stared down at each of the victims' pictures, noting their facial expressions in the live photos and in the crime photos, the connection clicking suddenly in her head. "Good God, he is a Muggle," she said, amazed.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Malfoy said. "It was obvious that he's –"

"A bloody mastermind!" Hermione cried out.

"Granger, what are you –? Where are you going?" He called after her as she scooped up all the photos, grabbed the responses from him, and ran out the room.

She sprinted actually, bursting into the break room where Harry, Seamus, and Dean all sat, eating a quick breakfast. She knocked their food off the table and, ignoring the protests, she spread the pictures out on the table. "I found it! I've found the clue!"

"Granger," Malfoy said, coming up behind her.

Hermione ignored him also, grabbing a napkin from the counter and a quill and ink from one of the many drawers.

"Take one, Melinda Turner," she said, pointing to the picture of a smiling girl and her crime scene photo. "Family says 'She was a very happy girl, always running around with a smile on her face.'"

Hermione ripped a piece of the napkin off and wrote 'Happy', placing it over Melinda's picture. "Next, Ashley Jenkins. . . . 'She _wasn't_ a very happy person, but then again she hasn't had a very happy life.'"

Hermione wrote 'Grumpy' on the napkin and placed it on Ashley's picture. "Jasmine Salithes was 'a doctor; why would anyone want to hurt someone who heals people?'"

Once again, she tore off another piece of paper, writing 'Doc'. Harry jumped from his chair, exclaiming, "Holy shite!"

Hermione glanced at him, continuing through the list, writing down different words and placing them over the picture. Seamus, Dean, and Malfoy all watched on, confused but intrigued.

"Elizabeth Cauldron, 'She's ill and I was only gone for bit'. Tracianna Pulk, 'She was such a shy girl, hardly spoke a word to anyone'. Amanda Tulson, 'She was sleepy when I left, she always sleeps, and that's why I thought she still was'. . . . .

"And last, but not least, Luna Lovegood," Hermione said. " 'She's was just this rather dopey girl, always warning us to watch out for Niffles or something-or-other.'"

Hermione wrote dopey on the last piece of the napkin and placed it over Luna's picture. Harry raised his hand to his head in shock. "That son-of-a-bitch . . . he's been following a damn story this whole time."

"What are you on about, Harry?" Seamus asked.

"Snow White," Hermione said. "Ever heard of it?"

Seamus and Malfoy shook their heads but Dean gasped, yelling out, "Bloody hell."

"Snow White was this princess, fairest in the land and an evil old witch didn't like that. She tried to have Snow White killed but Snow White escaped to the woods where she lived with these dwarfs. Happy, Grumpy, Doc, Sneezy, Bashful, Sleepy, and Dopey were their names. And that's how all of these women were before they died."

"It's a Muggle movie then?" Malfoy asked.

"He's killed them all with 'poison apples', all the dwarfs. He's playing the Wicked Witch."

"So what does that mean?" Seamus asked.

Harry looked to Hermione, scared. "It means he's gotten all the dwarfs out of the way for practice," Harry said. "It means that he's heading for. . . ."

"He's looking for his Snow White," Hermione muttered.

**A/n: Did anyone guess the clue before now? If you did, props to you! If I could give you a prize, you'd get it. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed that and here's your Teaser.**

"_I've got you know, you bastard."_

_The man laughed. "Know, Hermione, it's me that's got you."_

**Spooky, huh? Stay tuned for the next chapter.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Harry Potter.**

* * *

"Just to let you know, I am not going to enjoy this."

Hermione rolled her eyes before turning to face Draco Malfoy as he stepped through her fireplace. "Just sit down. I'll get the movie ready."

Malfoy sat down, though it was done grudginnly, Hermione could tell. She had managed to talk him into not wearing his robes just in case her neighbors stopped by, as they so often did, and she had to admit he had done well in picking out his Muggle clothes. It was a pair of simple black slacks and a green sweater, but it worked.

"Still don't see why you couldn't have just bought the book and let me read it in my home in my robes," Malfoy mumbled, picking at a loose strand on the arm of my sofa.

"Because I can't trust you to do things right away and you need to know all there is to know about Snow White. So stop complaining like a little kid."

He mumbled loudly, crossing his arms. Hermione moved across the room to him, handing him a bowl as she stooped down to put the movie into her VCR. "What is this?" Malfoy asked behind her.

"It's popcorn, what do you think it is?" Hermione said looking back at him. His expression was one of confusion as he lifted a popcorn kernel to his nose to sniff it. "Don't tell me you've never had popcorn before."

"I didn't exactly live in a family orientated place where we'd sit and eat 'popcorn' while watching movies."

"Well . . . just try it. I'm sure you'll like it."

Hermione sat back on the couch beside him, watching as he cautiously popped the kernel in his mouth. "You like it?" she asked, smirking.

Malfoy didn't say anything for a while before shrugging and saying, "It's alright."

Hermione laughed as he continued to eat, pressing play on the remote.

"Well, no wonder this Muggle is wandering around killing witches," Malfoy said when the movie was over. "I'd go around killing them too if I had this image of witches in my head."

"That's not funny," Hermione said, taking the now empty popcorn bowl from him.

"Just a thought. Why is it that Muggles make witches seem so . . . scary?"

"Just the way some people think. You ever heard of the Salem Witch trials?"

"Yeah, I remember that. Muggles were accusing Muggles of being witches and they'd kill them."

"Only because Muggles believed witchcraft to be associated with the devil, you know? And so, technically, it was considered evil. People still live with that image . . . well, some of them. I'll let you watch my Bewitched tapes sometime; there's a good witch in that."

Malfoy shrugged, leaning back into the couch. "So, what exactly are we looking at here?"

"Well, I say the PAK is jealous of witches, or at least angry with them for some reason. . . . Maybe – maybe he was abandoned by a witch or one of his sisters was a witch and he never became one. . . . It's a whole number of possibilities."

"Who do you think the 'Snow White' is?"

Hermione turned from the sink where she had been washing the bowl and sighed. "Probably someone pure and good, but in the PAK's thinking, someone pure and good can be considered someone who had been a Muggle until they found out they were a witch."

"A Muggleborn."

"Probably."

Malfoy was silent again, his expression Pensive. His eyes shifted to meet hers. "So that means you?"

Hermione scoffed. "Seriously, I doubt –"

"I wouldn't doubt anything if I were you, Granger. The guy has your number and he probably knows where you live."

The phone rang, cutting off Hermione's reply. They both looked at each other for a moment, letting the phone ring twice more before Hermione answered the phone. "Hello?"

"I see you found out my clue. I knew you were a bright girl. Only you would have been able to look so closely into it to see the connection."

Hermione glanced up as Malfoy came closer to her, turning slightly towards him. "Listen to me, alright? Seven people have died already, seven; you've proved your point. Why don't you just stop this? I won't turn you in just . . . stop the murders."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Hermione."

"Why?"

"You know why."

Hermione swallowed. "Until you get your Snow White?"

The man laughed. "Of course. And I'm sure you've already figured out the characteristics of my Snow White."

"Yeah, I have. And I'm going to protect her, no matter who she is."

"You can't protect them all, you know."

"I know, which means I have to do my best to catch you. I've got you now, you bastard."

The man laughed. "No, Hermione it's me that's got you."

"What do you –?"

"You've forgotten a very important little clue, Hermione. Not all witches are pure and golden."

"Granger!" Hermione and Malfoy spun around as Chief O' Shay's head popped up in her fireplace. "I need you and Malfoy to 17 Crescent street instant. There's been another murder."

"Enjoy the cleanup, Hermione," the man said before the dial tone sounded in her ear.

* * *

Hermione muttered a soft curse before stepping into the room where, once again, Colin Creevey was taking pictures, Harry watching over the procedure.

"Update me, Harry," Hermione said, as per usual.

"Pansy Parkinson," Harry said, reading his notes, though he didn't need to. "Same M.O. as the rest. Damn. And we had been so set on the 'Snow White' theory."

"We still are," Hermione argued. "He told me so. We just got to figure out how this fits in."

"How's Malfoy doing?" Colin asked, as he packed up his camera.

"Don't know," Hermione said. "He won't come in the room so he's out there talking to neighbors. She was his friend, you know."

"You know, I sort of feel sorry for the girl," Colin said as he walked towards the door. "Yeah, she was a wicked thing in school, but still. . . ."

Hermione froze, her eyes on Pansy Parkinson's blank stare, remebering Hogwarts and the way Pansy used to act to them. "Wicked."

"Hermione?" Harry said, confused.

"My God . . . Harry, he considers himself Prince Charming."

"What are you --?"

"Pansy was the Wicked Witch, Harry."

Harry's eyes opened wide as he looked over to Pansy. Quickly, he grabbed Hermione's arm, pulling her out of the room. "You mean to tell me we're still going with 'Snow White'? This guys clearing people, the characters, out of the way to --"

"To 'save' his 'Snow White'. All these witches, these purebloods but he wants a Muggleborn. Someone who used to be 'pure' before they found out he's a witch. There's only one murder left."

Malfoy looked up as Hermione and Harry stepped out of the building. By the look on his face, Hermione could tell that he had come to the same exact conclusion.

The game wasn't over yet.

* * *

**A/N: Yo, i scared myself for a minute there. I really hope you guys are enjoying this story because i have a lot of fun writing it. Stay tuned for the next chapter. Here's your teaser.**

_"I'll be there by five. Have your stuff packed."_

**See you next time.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

* * *

"I refuse. I will not be treated like a little kid. You are not the boss of me Malfoy."

Draco sighed, frustrated, as Granger turned away from him, crossing her arms. He looked over at Potter, pleading but Potter shrugged, mouthing, "This was your idea."

Draco frowned, looking at Granger. She _was_ acting like a little kid. And here he was trying to help her out. How stubborn could one girl get?

"Look, Granger," Draco said, leaning on her desk. "This guy has contacted you twice already and said that he sees you. He obviously knows where you live and you're probably his 'Snow White'. So unless you want to end up dead you're going to go stay at Potter's house."

"I will not," Granger said, again. "I am a grown woman and capable of protecting myself."

"You're a grown woman? Huh, could have fooled me with the way you're acting."

"Look, Hermione," Potter said, cutting in before Granger could retort. "We're just trying to make sure you're safe. You're very important to all of us and we would be devastated if something happened to you. So please, Hermione, just consider coming to stay with me and Ginny for a while, you know, at least until this all calms down. Please?"

Draco's frowned deepened as Granger looked to Potter and actually seemed to consider what he was saying. How come she didn't listen to him like that, huh? What did Potter have that he didn't have?

He took a deep breath, telling himself rationally that Potter was Granger's best friend and had been for almost thirteen years while she had only been Draco's friend (or whatever you want to call it) for five. Of course she listened to Potter and agreed with him because it was what she was used to doing.

So . . . why did he feel so . . . angry?

Just then the door to Hermione's office flew open and Colin Creevey came running in, a letter above his head. "Harry, Harry! It's here!"

Potter snatched the letter from Creevey's hands, tearing it open. They watched as his eyes flew over the parchment and his face paled. "Harry, what is it?" Granger asked.

"It's – Merlin, Ginny's gone into labor." Potter looked up at them, his eyes wide. "She's at St. Mungo's with Mrs. Weasley. I've got to – I've got to get home and grab Ginny's things and the baby's things. Bloody hell, she wasn't supposed to have this baby until next week! You think we're ready? I hope we've got everything the baby's going to need. Shite, I forgot to buy diapers! I've got to run to the store and –"

"Harry, just get to the hospital!" Granger said, jumping up and pushing him towards the door. "I'm sure Mrs. Weasley has all of Ginny's things, the baby's coming _now _so it's too late to worry about being ready, and you can worry about diapers later! Just go!"

Potter nodded, sprinting out the door to the Apparation points. Draco shook his head, an amused smile on his face. "Told him he was getting himself into trouble."

"Well, I suppose that solves things, doesn't it?" Granger was saying, sitting back down into her chair. "Harry and Ginny will be far to busy with the baby to put up with me right now so I suppose I'll just stay at home like I was planning to do in the first place."

"Nice try, Granger," Draco said, turning back towards her. "You're coming to stay with me."

"What?" Granger said, outraged. "I will do no such thing!"

"It's either that or I come kip it out on your couch, which I'm sure neither of us want."

"Why can't I just go stay at Richard's house?"

"Because you're 'Stalker' knows all about you, Hermione and he's probably expecting you to go to your boyfriend's house. And then both of you will end up getting killed."

He could see that this had shaken her, had loosened her resolve to not stay with him. But she tried to find a way out and for that, Draco had to give her some credit. "Well, if he knows so much about me, won't he realize that if I haven't gone to Richard's house I'll go to yours?"

"Probably."

"Than what makes your place so much better than Richard's?"

Draco sighed, moving towards the door. "He's a Muggle, remember? He won't be able to find my house. When you get home, lock all your doors and put your wards up. I'll be there at five. Have your stuff packed."

A smirk came to his face as he closed the door, hearing Granger give off a frustrated scream.

* * *

"I'm being forced against my will. There's really nothing I can do."

"I'm sorry to hear that darling. How long will you be away?"

Hermione twirled the phone cord around her finger, sadly, wishing that this could be the moment she could tell Richard she was a witch. But what would she say? 'Richard, I'm actually a Muggleborn witch you see and I don't work for a travel agency, I work our Ministry of Magic as an Auror and I catch the bad witches and wizards and because it is a possibility that a recent murderer is after me, I have to go stay at this guy, Draco Malfoy's house, for a while so that I'll be safe from the sadist who keeps calling my house'? For some reason, she didn't feel that would go down so well.

"I'm not sure yet," she told him. "It'll be for a couple of weeks but I'll definitely be home for our engagement party which Ginny is still planning by the way. She said that she had agreed to plan this for us and that being a mom was not going to stop her. But of course, I told her to push the party back at least a month so she could spend time with her child. Oh, he's such a beautiful thing, Richard. They've decided to name him James, after Harry's father. Isn't that wonderful?"

"Just think, Hermione dear, in a couple of years that could be us."

"Yeah." Hermione suddenly felt as she needed to get off the phone. This happened often when Richard would bring up the idea of having children. Of course she wanted children, but . . . it was complicated.

The wards around her tingled, announcing Malfoy's presence. "I've got to go, darling," she said, sadly.

"Call me often," Richard said.

"As much as possible."

Hermione hung up the phone just as Malfoy's Apparated into the house. Hermione often marveled at how he looked so laid-back from time to time. Even now he stood in the middle of her living room with his hands in his pockets as cool as anything. "Ready?" he asked.

"No," Hermione said. "But since I really don't have a choice."

She picked up her duffel bag from beside the kitchen table. Surprisingly, though, Malfoy took it from her. When she looked up at him, questioningly, he replied, "Wouldn't want you living your hand behind during Apparation, would we?"

She rolled her eyes. Leave it to Malfoy to turn a surprisingly gentleman move into a sarcastic comment.

Sighing, she took his arm and let herself be taken away from her flat.

* * *

**A/N: Oh, so I wonder what's going to happen next . . . seriously, I really wonder what's going to happen next. Lol, just kidding, I'll be sure to get an update to you soon. Um . . . no teaser this time but keep a look out for the next chapter. Bye!!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

* * *

Apparating into the middle of Draco Malfoy's house was something Hermione never wanted or never thought she would do. But as the discomforting feeling of Apparation left her body she found herself closing her eyes, as if she'd suddenly wake up from a horrible dream. Opening her eyes though, she was surprised to find herself, well, wrong, and oddly disappointed.

It must have shown on her face because Malfoy smirked, saying, "What were you expecting?"

"Stairs leading up to nowhere, house elves scurrying around everywhere, pictures depicting the worst imaginable way of torture that there could possibly ever be," Hermione answered, smirking back.

Malfoy frowned, turning from her to go up the one set of stairs. "Come on, I'll show you were you're room is."

Hermione followed him, taking another look around the house. It was so . . . simple, this Malfoy home. She had been expecting something close to Malfoy Manor, but this . . . this was actually . . . cozy, where the Manor had been cold and . . . well, mostly cold.

The living room was lightly furnished with two soft green sofas with a black coffee table into between them. The walls were a nice off-white color where the carpet was a soft brown, all of it set off by a brick fireplace, a large patio double door-window (which Hermione could already see led to a swing patio chair and some type of garden), and a large bookshelf against the wall. The kitchen was nice too, with an off-white linoleum floor and a black marble counter top with black stools around it and a stove in the middle. A dining room sat off the side of the kitchen, still as beautiful as the rest. Up the stairs, Hermione opened up the door to the bathroom, revealing more right, and a luxuriously, large tub set off to the side. Pushing open yet another door, revealed what had to be Malfoy's office. The walls and floor were a nice oak color, a mahogany desk set up in the middle with a very comfortable looking office chair. But what caught Hermione's eyes were the numerous books that surrounded the room. Of course the one downstairs looked amazing but this . . . this was incredible . . . this –

This was so un-like Malfoy.

"Granger –" Malfoy started from behind her, but Hermione had already rushed inside, running her fingers across the spines.

"This is magnificent!" she cried out. "There's so many! Have you read them all? Oh, I'm sure it would take me decades to read all these! Is this where you read them all? Or do you read them all downstairs? Oh, if I lived here, I'd set up a chair right next to a window or sit outside on the patio chair. There are so many titles here! So many wonderful authors! How do you possibly have time, with work and everything to –?"

Hermione spun around to find Malfoy leaning against the door frame with an amused expression on his face. Hermione blushed slightly. "Sorry . . . I just –"

"It's fine," Malfoy said. "I'd almost forgotten how you clung to the library back at school. . . . You can, you know, read them whenever you want to. . . . Are you ready to see your room now or should I leave you and my books alone?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, following Malfoy out of her den, further down the hall towards the next door. "You're right across from me so please, don't make too much noise."

Hermione stopped her retort as Malfoy opened the door to her bedroom. It was – It could only be described as magnificent. A large four poster bed awaited her, with a royal blue comforter and sheer blue curtains around it. The same curtains hung from another large double door-window, gracefully brushing against the blue carpet. Another fireplace blazed warmly with a plush chair sitting next to it.

"Wow," Hermione said, the word escaping in a breathless gasp. "You – you certainly know how to cater to your guests, Malfoy."

"I only offer the best, Granger," Malfoy said, as he set down her bag.

Hermione rolled her eyes again before flinging herself backwards onto the bed which was so light and fluffy she felt as if she were flying through air. She looked towards Malfoy who was still staring at her with that amused expression but there was something else, something she couldn't quite put her finger on –

"What?" she said.

"Nothing," Malfoy said, shaking his head. "Dinner's at six-thirty. I'll give you some time to get freshened up."

"Do I need to wear a fancy dress or anything?" Hermione mocked.

"Of course," he said as he walked towards the door.

"Wait." Hermione jerked up as he turned towards her. "You're kidding right?"

"I might be." Malfoy chuckled as he closed the door.

Hermione stared at the door for a moment before groaning and pulling herself off the bed. Leave it to Malfoy to make her get all dressy for dinner.

* * *

Draco carefully set two plates of roast beef, mashed potatoes, and string beans on opposite sides of the table. He was tempted to light the candles in the middle of the table before thinking, 'What am I doing?'

It was only Granger, after all.

Looking at his watch, he saw that she was close to ten minutes late. He sighed, looking down at his own outfit, which simply consisted of black slacks and a black button down shirt. Surely it shouldn't have taken Granger so long to pick out an outfit as simple as his.

Just then, Draco could hear hurried footsteps on the stairs, as if Granger had heard him complaining about her. He moved to her side of the table to pull back her chair, saying, "It's about –"

Draco stopped a moment to take in what Granger was wearing. The delicately designed black skirt that stopped just above her knees, showing off a great portion of her legs and the purple v-neck shirt that showed off her graceful neck were nothing compared to the glow that seemed to cover her. He actually couldn't tell what it was, what was making her glow, but –

Draco shook his head, frowning and forcing the thoughts from his mind. It was just Granger, after all, he found himself thinking again. "Time," he said, continuing his sentence.

She frowned, shaking her head. "You can't tell a girl that dinner will be in a half hour _and _expect her to be dressed nicely for it. On time and messy or late and dressy? I think you preferred the later, so get over it."

She sat in her chair and Draco helped her scoot up. He was beginning to regret letting her stay here. . . .

Or at least, so he thought. There conversation was very interesting to say the least. He found himself with a slight smile on his face as she spoke.

This was odd.

But . . . comfortable.

* * *

**A/N: So what do you think so far? I was thinking to myself and I realized that this story is, sadly, not going to be that much longer. I won't say how many more chapters are left but just no. Thanks for reading and I'm sorry for taking so long to update. See you all next chapter!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I own nothing what so ever.**

* * *

"I'm surprised you haven't killed each other yet," Ginny said.

Hermione smiled slightly, reaching down to let Little James in her lap grab hold of her finger with his tiny ones. He cooed, pressing little kisses on her fingertip. "Actually . . . it hasn't been that bad. Malfoy isn't that bad once you learn to tolerate living with him. You should see his den, Ginny . . . all those books . . . he lets me read them all the time."

"Aww, so it's bribery," Ginny said, smirking. They sat together in her and Harry's living room, having decided to take their normal lunch out inside, seeing as how it had started snowing and it was much to cold for James to be outside.

Hermione rolled her eyes, tapping James on his nose. "It's not bribery."

"Oh, so you just like his company than?"

"No, Ginny, now stop trying to make assumptions about things. You know I'm being forced against my will to live with him."

"But it hasn't been bad?"

Thinking back, Hermione realized that she had actually been alright these last three weeks at Malfoy's house. Their discussions were . . . strange, to say the least, but interesting and they kept her occupied. She and Malfoy had been switching back and forth between cooking when they had meals together. Who would have ever thought Malfoy could cook?

"Yes, well, when one lives by themselves, it's necessary to take care of the essential needs, like food, right?" he had said when she had expressed her opinion.

The way they lived together, went to work together, sat in the evenings, each with a book in their hands whether she was next to the window or he was up in his den . . . it all seemed so . . . normal, comfortable. . . . It seemed like they were –

Married.

Hermione shook the thought from her mind, sending her 'mind-reading' friend a small smile. "No it hasn't been bad. Well – unless you count Malfoy being a total stiff when it comes to me going off on my own. I can barely turn around without him being on my heels."

"Hmm, yes," Ginny said, nodding her head. "Because it must be horrible to have a hot guy following you all over the place."

"Ginerva!"

"Well, he is hot. Even you have to see that he's hot."

"What does that mean, 'even you'?"

"Come on, Hermione . . . you don't actually have good taste in men, you know. I mean, Viktor Krum? Cormac McLaggen? My brother?"

"Viktor Krum was a dashing gentleman, Ginny, and you know it . . . his nose wasn't that much off. Cormac McLaggen was to get back at your brother. And your brother . . . well, I'd hope to Merlin that you wouldn't think he was hot. He is after all your brother."

"Just because he's my brother doesn't mean I can't say if I believe he's good looking or not. I, for example, happen to think that Charlie Weasley is a rather handsome man."

"I don't know whether to be appalled or worried."

"Don't worry, I've got Harry and I happen to think he's the main candle on top of the hotness cake. You're free to have Malfoy, Charlie, or anyone else you want."

"Thank you, but I think I'll do just fine with Richard." James gave a small cry and Hermione turned her attention back to him, tickling him gently. When she looked back up, Ginny was staring at her softly. "What is it?"

"It just looks right on you, you know?" she said. "I keep looking at you and James and if it weren't for that reddish-black hair and those bright green eyes of his, I'd assume that he were yours, the way he takes to you. I can't wait for you to have kids."

Hermione hesitated before saying, "Yeah, er, me too."

Ginny frowned, suspiciously, opening her mouth to speak when Malfoy's head popped up in the fireplace. "Granger. We've got a problem."

* * *

"Same MO?" Hermione said, charging down the hallway of a small home.

"Not exactly," Harry answered, sounding grim.

Hermione reached forward to pull open the door of the bedroom. "What do you mean not –?"

She stopped short, her eyes on the sight in front of her.

Lying on the bed this time, in a blood red gown, was a little girl. She was a beautiful little thing, too, with coco brown eyes that probably used to glow with joy and the happiness of childhood. She had a very cute face, surrounded by luscious black curls and she couldn't have been more than five, six years old.

Hermione took a deep breath, walking further into the room where Colin was taking pictures and Seamus was looking for evidence while Malfoy over saw it all. The atmosphere was . . . horrible. It pushed in on Hermione like a very heavy blanket . . . no, like a stone wall. Everyone's faces were particularly grim, even Malfoy's. This was, had to be, the worst any of them had ever seen.

It was of course a little girl's room, the whole of it directed and light colors of pink, yellow, and blue. The little animals, however, that probably used to scamper across the walls in the brighter times, were cowering in the corner of the room, trying to avoid the –

Blood.

It was every where, Hermione realized, lifting a hand to her mouth to suppress the gasp about to break lose. On the walls, on the floor, on the ceiling, as if the killer had . . . emptied the little girl out. Looking closer, she realized that the dress wasn't blood red . . . just blood.

So much blood.

"He cut her throat," Malfoy said, his voice strangled. "Attacked her while she was sleeping and slipped something down her throat to keep her from waking up. He cut her throat, her wrist . . . everywhere."

He caught her eyes and Hermione was surprised to see how depressed he looked at the moment. This one had really gotten to him. But then, he looked up, high above the little girls' small bed.

Hermione followed his gaze. A small scream pushed its way into her throat but she held it down.

Above the bed, written in blood, was one message, three little words.

_For you, Hermione._

* * *

**A/N: Whoa. Scared myself. Sorry to all who felt this chapter was a bit to gruesome. Thanks for reading anyway.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I own nothing at all.**

* * *

Draco sighed running his hands through his hair. Pictures of that poor little girl sat on his desk but he had turned them upside down, not able to look at them for too long at a time. Unable to face the silence of his office, he stood, leaving the room behind.

He passed by Granger's office, which was locked and dark. She had stayed home from work today, depressed and angry with the world, with whoever was doing this. Potter stood absentmindedly in front of the door.

"Potter," Draco said as he approached.

The other man looked up, a weary smile on his face. "Hey. How's it going?"

Draco, knowing that Potter was talking about Hermione said, "She hasn't said a word all day, except to mention that she felt the PAK changed stories; Little Red Riding Hood, she said. And then she hasn't spoken since. I've been checking back on her all day, but she's just been sitting on the porch, staring off into space."

Potter sighed. "Damn it all if I don't admire Hermione's ability to care for people no matter what the situation, but along with that she takes everything upon herself, as if she's the only one that can fix the problems of the world. It's hard for her."

Draco nodded, understanding what Potter was talking about. He had seen it himself during school, with her and the whole house elf rights thing. If there was one thing he could say about Granger, she was definitely a one of a kind activist.

"Maybe. . . ." Potter paused. "Maybe you can talk to her."

"What are you on about Potter?"

"Well – just, I think Hermione listens to you, even more than she does me and Ron."

Draco's eyebrow shot up. "Listens to me? Are you daft? Or did you forget about the whole living situation thing?"

"I'm serious, Malfoy. You're the only one out of us all who's willing to talk back to Hermione and I really think that's all she needs."

"Doesn't she get that with Weasley."

"She gets _bickering_ and _pettiness_ with Ron. What she really needs is for someone to yell at her, tell she's wrong . . . you know, the way you now. So, just – just think about it okay?"

"I –" Draco visibly hesistated, not really up for a shouting match with Hermione. But, he had taken her into his house, his care, and his 'care' is what she needed right now. "I'm heading home now. I'll – I'll try to talk to her."

* * *

When he arrived, home he found Granger in the same exact spot as when he had left for work, curled up in the porch swing with her chin against her knees in her bathrobe. Staring at her for a moment, he moved into the kitchen, which was spotless meaning either Granger hadn't eaten all day or else she was just an obsessive cleaner.

Hoping that maybe he could coax her inside with food, he began to cook.

But an hour and a half after dinner was made and set out on the table and the sky began to darken, threatening in oncoming storm, Granger had still not moved. Sighing impatiently, Draco moved towards her, pulling open the patio door. "Come and get something to eat," he said.

"Not hungry," she mumbled, her voice soft and hoarse.

"Well, can you at least come inside? It's going to rain soon."

"Let it rain then."

"Aw, come on Granger! Will you quit moping around? We all feel bad about that little girl but this is ridiculous!"

"Ridiculous?" Granger stood upslowly, turning to face him. "_Ridiculous_?! Do you even know the meaning of the word!? Ridiculous, is getting upset about a lost quill! Ridiculous, is getting pissed off because the spine of a book is broken! Those things happen and can be easily fixed! What I'm feeling right now, Draco Malfoy, is far from ridiculous!"

"How so, Granger, huh? How so? You've been sitting out here on the patio all day, you haven't eaten, missed work and you don't call that being ridiculous!?"

"A little girl died, Malfoy!" Tears swelled up in her eyes, her cheeks turning red. "A little girl was brutally and viciously murdered! Her blood was smeared across the walls and for what? A bloody message for me!"

"You act as if you killed the girl yourself! These deaths weren't your fault!"

"That might as well have been! Nine people! Nine bloody people, one being a little girl who had barely begun to live her life and he just took it away! I should have – I should have stopped this by now! I should have put his arse in prision by now."

Granger sunk back onto the swing, sobbing into her hands. Sighing, Draco sat down beside her, hesistantly placing his hand on her shaking back. This was odd, he realized.

"You've been doing your best, Granger," Draco said. "We all have. This guy's really good, unfortunately, and that's why we have to keep trying. But you can't take the blame for all this. That's what this guy wants you to do. I know you're the smartest witch of your age, but you can't hold the world on your shoulders. You can't fix the world by yourself."

"But nine times?" She said, softly, wiping the tears from her face. "I've let him slip through my fingers nine times. What good is being the smartest witch of my age if I can't stop this guy? I feel so . . . so stupid."

Draco couldn't help but chuckle slightly. "You're not stupid, Granger. Far from it."

"Yes I am. I so, so stupid."

Frustrated, he reached over and gently took hold of her chin, turning her face toward him. "You're not stupid, alright? You're brilliant and talented and –"

Was it just him or did his heart just speed up? He felt the moment it did, when her eyes met his. She had really nice warm eyes, deep, golden brown. He didn't like the way she was looking into his eyes, the way he was feeling right then. Where in Merlin's name did this come from?

"—and beautiful," he found himself continuing. "And interesting."

He's eyes slipped down to her lips, which looked soft and plump and were slightly parted. He realized he had gotten close enough to feel her breath against his lips.

"Draco," she whispered.

She probably didn't even realize that she had just said his name, but the sound of it coming from her was enough for him.

And so, with only the stars and the now trickling rain as their witness, Draco Malfoy passionately kissed Hermione Granger.

And Hermione Granger kissed back.

* * *

**A/N: SO what do you think? Just let me know. Thanks for reading.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

* * *

_Oh no_.

Hermione slowly opened her eyes, the agonizing realization of what she had done hitting her hard as soon as she woke up that morning.

Looking to her left, she realized that Malfoy wasn't there, though she could hear him humming to himself in the shower.

How could she have slept with Malfoy? How on earth could she have been so . . . vulnerable? Sure, she'll freely admit (to herself and no other) that she had some sort of – feelings for him, but to fall into his arms (and bed) so quickly, so easily for comfort was so unlike her.

She had a fiancée for Christ's Sake!!

She got up from the bed, wrapping the sheet around her and moving her hair from her face as she moved around the bedroom, quickly gathering up her clothes.

"Leaving so soon?"

Hermione spun around, the clothes dropping from her arms as she saw Malfoy leaning against her doorframe with an amused look on his face – and only wearing a towel around his waist.

"I – I, er, I've decided to go into work today," she said lamely.

"That would be good," Malfoy said, "if it weren't for the fact that you've already slept way past the hour in which you were supposed to be at the office."

"Yes, well, it'll – it'll just have to be the first day I go in late, you know."

"Oh come off it, Granger. Lying doesn't become you." He moved towards her and Hermione was frozen. He bent down, picking up her lacy bra and holding it in front of her face. "You're not very good at sneaking either."

He was such a cocky bastard. Hermione snatched her bra from him, a blush on her face. Turning away from him she began to try to put on her clothes with the sheet still around her body.

"You know, I've already seen you naked," he said from where he had sat back on the bed (having simply thrown off the towel, putting on some boxers right in front of her). "It wouldn't really matter if I saw you again. Or you can just walk across the hallway to your room, seeing as how you do have clothes here."

Realizing he was right didn't make her any happier and the blush on her face deepened. "Unlike you, Malfoy, I have some class and I rather not walk about the house undressed."

Malfoy was silent for a moment. "You weren't planning on staying here at all, were you."

It wasn't a question. Hermione struggled to put on her pants on, falling to the ground. Malfoy looked down at her. She couldn't tell what he was thinking and, when she thought about it, she didn't want to know. "I have a fiancé, Malfoy."

"Yeah, but do you love him?" Malfoy asked suddenly.

Hermione opened her mouth to say she did but realized . . . she didn't know. . . . She believed she did. You wouldn't agree to marry someone if you weren't in love with them, would you? Did she agree to marry Richard even though she didn't love him?

What was she thinking? Of course she loved him!!

So – why couldn't she say that she did?

She took a deep breath, looking back to Malfoy. "We – we should forget any of this happened."

He stared at her for a long while before rolling over to lie on his back. "Okay fine. It doesn't matter anyway."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked against her better judgment.

When he didn't say anything, she stepped forward, still clad in only her bra and pajama bottoms that she had worn underneath her robe last night. "Malfoy?"

"What, Granger?" he said, sitting up slightly. "What are you fishing for? Compliments? You're an incredible lay, Granger. One of the best I ever had."

Hermione's mouth fell open in shock. Before either knew what had happened, she slapped him. The both stood there, Malfoy with a red imprint of her hand on his cheek and her, still in a daze from what he had said. "You're nothing but a bastard."

She spun on her heel, moving towards the room she had called her own for the past couple of weeks. Using her wand she lifted and packed her things into the one suitcase she had, pulling an old shirt over her bra and putting on some sandals. She looked an absolute mess at the moment but she didn't care.

She didn't even stop to fathom why, though she had been the one to suggest that they forget the whole thing, she was so hurt and upset.

Hermione picked up her bag and walked back to Malfoy's room where he still lay on his back, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Want to tell me what just happened here, Malfoy? Want to clue me in?" she said.

"You were the one who was crying on my porch, not the other way around," he replied.

"Oh so this was just mercy sex or something?"

"Don't be so sanctimonious, Granger. You knew what this was."

"No I don't. Why don't you tell me." He didn't respond and this only made her angrier. "So it was nothing right? Just one of many other lays though I was one of the better ones. Well, thanks a lot, asshole!"

She walked out of the room, heading downstairs. Malfoy was hot on her heels. "Damn it all, Granger! That's not what I'm saying!"

He grabbed her arm just before she went to Apparate. "I can't offer you anything, Granger! You're one of those girls who beg for forever and I can't give you that, obviously! You've told me time and time again how much Richard has offered you! You've got him! I'm sure he'll satisfy you just fine.

She snatched away from him, tears coming to her eyes. She wouldn't cry not in front of him, though she couldn't make herself leave.

It was with a horrible realization that she realized she _wanted_ to stay, _needed_ to stay. . . . With Malfoy. . . .

"Tell me not to go," she said, softly.

"What?" he said, confused.

"If you care about me as much as I think you do, you'll tell me not to go. You'll tell me not to marry Richard."

He stared at her for a moment before he turned, his back to her. "I can't do that, Granger. . . . It was nothing, right? We'll just forget it. Go on back to Richard. He's promised you the world, obviously, and that's something I can't give you. You're a smart girl, so take what's given to you."

Hermione took a deep breath, one tear falling from her eye as she mumbled, "Okay."

With a pop she Apparated, vaguely hearing Malfoy call her name, but she wouldn't go back.

She would never go back.

* * *

**A/N: After days of waiting, what do you think? Hope you enjoyed. Only a couple of chapters left.**


	14. Author's Note

Dear Readers,

This is me talking, me being real, alright?

I know I mess up sometimes and I won't spell words right or I'll mess up grammar. . . .

My freaking bad.

But what I don't need is for readers (who I will not mention) or whoever the heck they are to leave a review on how horrible a writer I am or whatever.

First off: I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK!! I am not writing this note because you 'hurt my feelings' or sent me into a 'suicidal rage', Flame Rising. I am writing this to all my readers or new readers or people simply stumbling upon one of my stories to let you know that if you don't like it, press the little back space button. Why leave a review if all you're going to do is criticize and belittle me just because it's 'in the guidelines to be able to write your opinion'.

Second: This does not mean that I don't love getting reviews and that I don't care what the nice people think. I do. I am not a 'review whore' and I don't tend to ask for them. They make me happy to see them and I love to respond to people who've reviewed. So if you're one of my lovely, kind reviewers, by all means, go on.

Third: I do not mind constructive criticism. I love it and I will respond positively to your reviews. But I do mind blatant rudeness and I will not hesitate to respond and tell you just how I feel.

This note is in response to all those who feel it is necessary to torment writers. If you feel the need to write rude things in people's boxes just because you don't have the guts to write a story because you're scared what people will say about your crap stories, by all means go ahead. If this means I lose readers, at least I know I can still depend on the true people like allhugs13, Celebrytie Aris Channas, M.E.Potter, and the fifty or so other people who have me on their alert or favorite list, just to name a few.

I truly do thank my readers who have been kind and supportive since I've join people. You guys are great. And if any of you are writers, like I know so many of you are, please, I implore you not to let reviewers the ones mentioned above. You are a great writer if you put you're mind to it and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I'm not one, though, to sit back and let someone blatantly disrespect me and I hope you are either.

Thank you,

Nea aka Suni-Dlight.

"Make it a Sunny Day!!"


	15. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: Not mine at all.**

* * *

"So what happened?" Ginny asked, crossing her legs.

Hermione lay back on her friend's bed, staring up at the ceiling. She had left Malfoy's house and, after dropping her things back at home, had Apparated over to Ginny and Harry's house, feeling depressed and lonely.

She had been stupid, she supposed, to believe that Malfoy would want to be with her. . . . For a moment back there, she had thought that maybe, just maybe he'd ask her to stay, to not marry Richard. . . .

Of course, though, those sort of things only happened in movies, books, and musicals . . . not her life.

Marrying Richard would promise her forever, consitency . . . something she was sure she would never have with Malfoy.

So it didn't matter. She'd get over it, they'd forget about it, and, hopefully, things could get back to how they were when they just partners.

"Nothing," Hermione said, grimacing slightly. It was such a blatant lie and such an understatement. _A lot_ had happened, more so if there were such a thing.

"You know, Harry's not home yet," Ginny said, smiling lightly. "You can say anything you want and he won't be any the wiser."

Hermione smiled over at Ginny. Besides Luna, Ginny had been one of Hermione's only girlfriends, considering she had preferred the boys' company to avoid (somewhat) the drama that occurred more around girls. But she had always been able to talk to Luna and Ginny and they had accepted her for who she was. . . .

And so Hermione explained to Ginny all of what had happened since the little girl's murder and what had happened between her and Malfoy. Ginny sat silently, her chin on top of her hands as she listened to Hermione's story.

"Well," Ginny said slowly, "do you love Richard?"

"Of course!" Hermione said, indignately. "I wouldn't be marrying him if I didn't love him. Of course I love him."

"Just not the same way you love Malfoy, right?"

"I –" Hermione had been about to declare that she didn't love Malfoy but she wasn't too sure if that were true. They fought constantly, though it was mostly friendly banter, and they had so much in common that it was, sometimes, annoying, and they worked well together. . . . They could never be around each other without one or two biting and sarcastic remarks . . . but Hermione actually liked those. . . . "—don't," she finished weakly.

Ginny smirked just as Harry Apparated back into the house for his lunch break and they weren't able to say anything else.

* * *

Deciding she needed to get a couple of last minute errands done before for the party tomorrow, Hermione pulled it open her front door, pulling her hair back into a messy ponytail.

She tried not to act surprised when she saw Malfoy standing there. She could truly say that this was the first time she had ever seen him so . . . un-Malfoy. His hair, usually slicked back in public, was wild about his head, his eyes red, and his clothes dishelved as he huddled in his hood against the cold. Instead of commenting, she crossed her arms and said, "You could have wrote if you were going to stop by unexpected."

"Would you have allowed me to come over?" he asked, sounding tired.

It had been a week since she had left his house and all was quite. There hadn't been anymore murdurs, or leads for that matter, so neither of them were needed much unless the Chief called them in. She hadn't seen him this whole week.

And even after a whole week, she was still mad.

"No," she said. "But you wouldn't have had to stand out in the cold for nothing."

She locked her door and walked off, though she felt like just running. Malfoy walked a few feet behind her. "Granger we need to talk."

"No we don't Malfoy. I think we've said everything that we needed to say and then so. . . . I have some errands to run."

"Are you still going to marry him?"

Hermione turned, furious now. "That's none of your business."

"I have to know, Granger. It's important."

"Why? Have you decided you changed your mind?" Why was he doing this to her? Couldn't he just leave her alone? "I thought not. Good day, Malfoy."

He grabbed her arm as she turned towards her car. "Just hear me out Granger. I've got a really bad feeling about this guy, about your wedding."

"Oh this is just crazy! Why am I standing here listening to you? You have no clue what you're talking about!"

"How long have you known this guy, Granger? A year? Six monthes? And he suddenly pops the question? Don't you think it just a little bit odd that he pops up out of nowhere?"

Hermione's eyes grew wide and she snatched her arm away from him. "I cannot believe what your insuating! Richard is not a murderer!"

"How much do you know about him, huh? For all you know, he could be a Squib! He could have had a mother, a sister who was a witch! He could be the –"

"He's not the PAK!" Hermione pushed Malfoy away from her, tears stinging her eyes. She knew he had a point, a good one. She didn't know much about Richard. They had only been dating for the past seven months. But she refused to think that the man she was supposed to marry was killing all these girls. "This is low, Malfoy, even for you! I already offered you my heart and you threw it back at me! _'Stay with Richard_,' you said. '_Love Richard, not me. Richard can offer you everything_.' Keep your lines straight, why don't you!"

"I'll tell you I love you if it keeps you from marrying him."

"Oh how noble of you."

He grabbed her arm again. "Don't marry Richard."

"Malfoy –"

"You asked me to give you a reason not to marry him. I am. I'm here. Don't marry Richard."

She looked at him, at his pleading gaze. This wasn't the Malfoy she was used to. "I've got a lot to do before the party tomorrow. I'm getting married in a couple of weeks and you want to play this game –"

"It's not a game. This isn't easy for me, Granger. I'm not used to feeling this way about someone, but you – I think I love you, Granger. I want to give us a try."

"You just said that you'd tell me you loved me just to keep me from marrying Richard. Now you've done it. Are you happy with yourself? Are you proud? Am I supposed to swoon over you without thought or consideration? Am I supposed to feel honored? Grateful? Please. I'm not an idiot. And I'm not desperate."

Oh how she wished that were true. She opened her car door and slid into the front seat, slipping the key into the ignition. Malfoy caught the door. "I'm being as honest as I know how to be."

"Bully for you."

"When are you going to see that I'm trying. You're just pissed off that all I can offer is to try. At least I'm not the one whose marrying someone she doesn't love because she's afraid and she just wants to feel safe."

"Let go of my door, Malfoy!"

Instead he grabbed her hands, pulling her from the car. "You don't love Richard. I know you don't."

"What? Of course I love Richard! How would you –"

But he stopped her from talking, pressing his lips against hers. And Merlin help her if she tried not to kiss back but it was just so . . . she couldn't explain it. She wanted to kiss him, wanted to just stop fighting against him but –

Richard's face appeared in her mind. She hadn't talked to him much since she had been home but he was supposed to meet her at the party tomorrow.

Hermione pushed away from Malfoy, sliding back into her car. Reaching into her purse she pulled out a card, handing it to him without looking at him. "Here's an invitiation. You can come if you want to."

He took the card, staring down at it. He looked back up at her. "Hermione. . . ."

It was the first time she had ever heard him say her name, even in the eight years that they had been partners at the Ministry. Tears stung her eyes as she turned the key and closed the door.

She drove off, looking into the rearview mirror as Malfoy watched her before Disapparating.

* * *

In the distance a murderer watched the whole exchange chuckling to himself as the Malfoy man pleaded with Hermione.

She wouldn't have Malfoy. She wouldn't have anyone but him, even if she didn't realize yet. She was his.

His Hermione. His beautiful, sweet, caring Hermione. Oh how he long to hold her against him, put his fingers in her hair, kiss her, touch her, make love to her. He would though. He would have her soon.

She would realize all that he had done was for her. She would realize that what he was doing the right thing. He would save her from herself, from the evil that surround her.

Like that man, Malfoy.

He watched, angry as Malfoy kissed her . . . and Hermione didn't stop him!! That slut, that whore! Didn't she realize who he was? All that he was doing for her?

He'd have to punish her for that.

And he'd have to get rid of Malfoy.

Because if he couldn't have Hermione, no one could.

They would be together for eternity.

* * *

**A/N: So I really hope you guys enjoy this. Thought I'd throw the murderer in there for a moment. Getting close to the end here folks. Thanks for reading.**


	16. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

* * *

Draco knew there was something wrong.

He couldn't put his finger on it but he knew something was out of place and it had to do with Richard and Hermione. . . .

He just had to figure out how to prove it. . . .

Looking down at his coffee table he saw the invitation she had given him. He wasn't going, he decided. It would be too much for him to just show up there and too much for her.

People would be getting ready to go now. Ginny planned really nice parties, he had heard. He should go, as Hermione's 'friend' and 'partner' to show support and wish her many years of happiness, but _he _wanted those years of happiness with her for himself.

Enough was enough.

Draco shoved some shoes on his feet and stood to pull his jacket on. He wasn't going to just sit here and mope. He was going to get some proof and stop this engagement from taking place.

* * *

"Malfoy? What are you doing here?"

"Is Granger here?" Draco asked Potter without hesitation.

Potter raised an eyebrow. "I would hope not. She's probably at home getting ready for tonight or at Richard's. Speaking of which, aren't you going?"

Draco shook his head. "Forget about the party right now, Potter. Granger is in trouble."

"What are you talking about?"

"Something is seriously wrong with this whole arrangement between her and this Muggle. Don't you think it just a bit odd that we haven't met or heard a word from him until today? And don't you think it odd that the murders started back when Hermione started dating."

"Are you sure there's something wrong and it's not just you trying to stop Hermione from getting married?"

"This is no time for jokes, Potter! Granger is in serious trouble! She could be _killed_!"

"Harry?" Potter turned around to Ginny and a young teenage girl, who was holding a very agitated James. Draco recognized her as Potter's niece, Victoire Weasley. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, Ginny. Er, you go ahead to the party. Vic, are you going to be alright with James tonight?"

"Of course, Unc. Little James and I will be fine, won't we James?"

Potter closed the door behind him after grabbing his jacket. "Explain this to me again."

"I think we were wrong. That little girl wasn't a switch in stories for the PAK. She was just some sort of excuse for the message he left Granger. She's obviously the PAK's Snow White. He's going to go after her for sure."

"What does this have to do with tonight?"

"What if Richard is the PAK?" Potter opened his mouth to respond but stopped, contemplating the situation. Draco continued. "Think about it Potter. He shows up out of the blue and Granger admits that she doesn't know much about him. So what if he's our guy? What better way to get to Granger than by dating her and proposing to her? He'd be right under her nose and she wouldn't suspect a thing until it was too late. . . ."

Potter crossed his arms, thinking for a moment. He looked back to Draco, frowning. "What do we do?"

"We check his house for clues."

"This is technically breaking and entering. We have no jurisdiction over Richard."

"But we have jurisdiction over anything dealing with the Magical world. If this guy is killing witches and if he's after Granger, than it's our business. _Alohomora_."

The door popped open, revealing a dark house. A man's house, obviously, proven by the décor and chose furniture.

"Anyone home?" Potter mumbled.

The two checked through the living room first and it was there that Draco noticed there were two of everything, both sets belonging to males. "Did Hermione mention anything about him having a roommate?"

"Not that I know of," Potter said, his voice muffled as he moved down the hall. "Come to think of it, she didn't ever really mention much about Richard."

"Because she didn't know much, probably."

There was a moment of silence. "Bloody hell. Malfoy get back here!"

Draco scrambled to his feet, running down the hall to Potter, who stood in the doorway, his mouth agape and his eyes wide. . . . For good reason, Draco realized.

Lying under the covers on the bed, was Richard. His neck was slit. Blood pooled on the covers and the side of the bed he stared at them with blank eyes.

"I don't believe it," Potter murmured.

"Can't believe Richard's dead or that I was wrong," Draco asked moving forward.

"A little of both I suppose."

Draco looked over the body from the head to the blood stains. "Rigor Mortis has already set in. Suppose he's been dead for a good part of the day, maybe even since last night. . . . All this blood isn't just coming from his neck."

He peeled back the covers almost immediately stepped back.

The words 'she's mine' were carved all over the man's body. Draco ran a hand over his face.

He had been dead wrong. "This cuts were made before the last slice to the neck. The murderer tortured him first. . . . There are bruises around the wrists and ankles . . . he tied him to the bed posts."

"We need to check the roommate," Potter said, sounding strangled. "And then we need to go find Hermione. . . . She – she needs to know what happened."

Draco walked past Potter to the room across the hall, feeling torn. He had wanted the engagement to be broken, but not like this. It was all too much.

The next room was cleaner, by the looks, bed neatly made, papers stacked neatly on the desk, clothes folded neatly in the drawers, and jackets and shoes lined up neatly in the closet.

"Neat freak," Draco muttered.

"He was a doctor of some sort," Potter said, examining the papers. He looked up at Draco with a frown. "Don't you find this a bit odd?"

"The fact that he's a freak when it comes to cleanliness or –"

"The fact that everything is so tidy is a bit of a clue." Potter moved to knock on the wall. "These walls are thin. Unless the killer muffled Richard, whom I'm sure screamed if tortured, the roommate should have heard something. Besides, if you knew your roommate had been murdered, would you take the time to organize your room."

"If I slept here," Draco said.

Potter frowned. "Suppose you're right."

He paused, his eyes drifting towards the closet. Draco followed his gaze, noticing the thin line of light coming from inside the closet.

With one last glance at Potter, they both moved forward, Draco throwing the jackets out while Potter moved the shoes. Their search revealed a secret door, roughly built into the fairly new house. Draco wrapped his hand in a sleeve and pulled the door open.

It was candles giving off the dim light, but that wasn't what had shocked Draco and Potter into silence.

A large picture of Hermione, most likely stolen from Richard, hung on the wall facing the door. Surrounding it were pictures of the women he had obviously stalked and killed, each one of his victims marked off with a bloody 'X'. There was also a picture of Ginny, Potter, and himself, unmarked thank Merlin.

The maniac had scrawled 'TONIGHT' across Hermione's picture.

" 'Right under her nose'," Potter mumbled. "You weren't too wrong, Malfoy."

"Doesn't matter," I said, backing out of the small room. "We've got to get to Hermione now. We've found the PAK."

* * *

"Hermione you look lovely."

Hermione spun around expecting to see Richard, but was surprise to find his roommate Dr. Christopher Bosley, Richard's brother and roommate. He was a nice man, she supposed; she didn't know much about him. He had been with Richard though, when they first met. Tall with dark brown eyes and long black hair, he was quite the catch for any woman.

"Well, thank you Christopher," Hermione said. She felt overdone, though, because Ginny made her dress in old fashioned ball gown that sort of reminded her of Belle from Beauty and the Beast, except her sleeves stretched down to her elbows, it was v-neck, and her dress was dark green. "You didn't see Richard when you left the house, did you?"

Suddenly Christopher turned very serious, gently grabbing onto Hermione's elbow. "May I speak with you in private for a moment?"

Hermione suddenly felt wary of this man and his dark eyes, hence the reason she hesitated before letting him lead her off to a corridor near the back door. "Is something the matter?"

"I'm – I'm not quite sure how to say this," Christopher began. "Richard was – Richard was found dead this moment."

She felt her heart stop for sure. This couldn't be possible. "What?"

"He slit his wrist in the bathtub."

"This – this can't be true. . . . You're sure? Why?"

"Well, he has been feeling rather depressed lately. I supposed you were the only thing he was holding onto but – he kept saying you mentioned this man named Malfoy. . . . Perhaps he thought you were cheating on him and he just – snapped."

Tears came to Hermione's eyes. This was her fault? And he had been right! She had cheated on him! Oh, Merlin what had she done?

She felt Christopher's arms slip around her shoulders, pulling her forward into a hug. "Shh, shh, it's alright," he whispered as she sobbed. "Everything will be alright in a moment."

Hermione felt the sting of a needle enter the vein of her neck for the briefest of seconds. She backed away from Christopher, her hand lifting to her neck in confusion.

As her vision started to fade and her motor skills failed, the last thing Hermione saw was Christopher's evil smile before she faded into blissful silence.

* * *

**A/N: So I hope you guys liked this. Spooky yes? P.S. this story will be updated every Thursday and Sunday. Stay tuned for it.**


	17. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Draco and Potter arrived at the site of the Engagement Party just as soon as Ron and Ginny came out side, looking around confused.

"You okay?" Potter asked Draco as they approached the two. "You look a little paler than normal."

"I'm worried and I hate cars," Draco murmured and it was true. He had never cared much for cars, having always Apparated, Flooed, or flew to the places he needed to go. But mostly he was worried. What if he was too late? He didn't want to think that but it was possible. . . . "How do you think I feel?"

"There you are," Ginny said. "I was beginning to think you weren't about to show up. Oh, hello Draco, what are you doing here?"

"Where's Hermione?" Draco said.

"We've just came out here to find her," Ron said.

"She's just disappeared," Ginny said, looking worried now.

"When did you notice she was missing?" Potter asked.

"Just a moment ago. Ron was about to give a toast to the couple but they've disappeared. But, come to think of it, I'm not even sure if Richard showed up at all yet. I hadn't seen Hermione with any guys except the ones we knew."

A man stuck his head out the door, looking around until his eyes landed on Ginny. "You'd be the host of this party right?" he asked.

"Yeah, is something the matter?" Ginny asked.

"People are wondering, you know, where the wine and champagne is."

"We can't break out the wine and champagne until the bride and groom have gotten here to do their toasts."

"Well, if you asked me, the bride already got pretty toasted; that's why everyone's complaining."

Draco's ears perked. Reaching forward he grabbed the man, pulling him out the door and pushing him against the wall. "Hey, hey, hey, what the bloody hell is your problem!?"

"Explain what you were just talking about," Draco said fiercely.

"It's nothing serious!" the man yelled. "Richard introduced me to Hermione before so I recognized her when I got her. She looked sloshed you know? She was leaving when I came in so I just figured that the party had gotten started already."

"Who took her?" Draco said.

"Christopher. He's – he's, er, Rick's brother. Said he'd make sure Hermione got home safely and that Rick was probably on his way here."

"Which way did they go?"

"That way." The man pointed off in the distance, towards where the snow was starting to fall softly in this winter night and was probably already blocking the roads.

They wouldn't get far.

Draco let go of the man, turning to Potter. "Let's go."

Potter was pulling out his keys even before Draco had said something, moving towards the car.

"Draco, Harry, what's going on?" Ginny said, following them with Ron behind her.

"Where's Hermione?" asked Ron.

Draco looked to Potter who briefly shrugged his shoulders. This was technically Draco's case. If he wanted them to know what happened, he could say so. "Go find Finnigan and Thomas to follow in our tracks."

"What do we tell them?"

"The PAK is on the move again."

* * *

Hermione came to fuzzily, lifting her head slowly to keep from getting dizzy. She was moving. . . . No, she was in a car. . . . Still moving, but in a slightly different way.

Snow covered the windows, her vision blurring slightly as the window wipers swept quickly across.

She went to move, only to discover that her hands were tied in front of her. It was then that she began to struggle, fighting against her bonds and the tight seat belt but. . . .

"It's no use."

Hermione looked over to Christopher who was driving intently, a manic grin on his face. He looked over at her briefly. "You're mine to do as I will, Hermione."

She began to understand why she hadn't recognized his voice. She had barely spoken a word to him after she met Richard. He paid her no mind and she returned the favor, thinking that maybe he just didn't like her.

Boy was she wrong.

But it made since now. The poison, the obvious precision and delicateness with which he worked, the lack of evidence. . . . He was a doctor, trained to have keen eye for detail for all his patients.

"Why are you doing this?" Hermione said, looking down at her hands.

"You . . . 'people' think you're so wonderful just because you're so different. Just because you have power in your hands. That doesn't stop you from being killed just like a 'Muggle'." He chuckled, shaking his head. "It's funny to think that you and Richard were going to be married and yet you both kept so much from each other."

"What are you talking about?"

Christopher gasped mockingly. "You mean he didn't tell you?"

"Will you just get on with it?"

He laughed. "Your dear wonderful Richard was a Wizard."

Hermione's head snapped up. "He couldn't have been. I would have –"

"Known him from that freaky little school of yours?" Christopher said, cutting her off. "Richard attended a different school in America. We lived there before we moved here, just after the war."

"But how?"

Christopher's fingers tightened around the steering wheel. "Our mother was a witch. . . . A pureblood I think you call them. Dad divorced her as soon as he found out, as soon as Richard started showing powers and we moved. But mum . . . mum _loved_ Richard, taught him everything she knew and spent tons of money on him to get his first owl and a racing broom and everything when he was in school, and when we moved out here it didn't change. I might as well have been a stepchild they way my mother treated me, the way she ignored me just because I wasn't _special_. . . . She was the first. I practiced on her before I moved onto those other girls."

"You killed your mother?" Hermione said, horrified.

"I freed her soul from the evil that had her conflicted," Christopher snarled. "She would have never have treated me the way she did if she weren't a witch."

"You're twisted. Richard talks about your mum as if she were a saint. Magic doesn't make you evil."

Christopher laughed again. "You know what's even funnier? Richard knew who you were this whole time. You were in all the magic newspapers. But he waited patiently for you to tell him and then he was going to tell you and then you'd be a perfect little magic couple."

Hermione realized suddenly that he was referring to her fiancé in past tenses. "What have you done?"

"He wouldn't share. After we met you I told him that I was going to try and win your heart but he laughed in my face. The next thing I knew, he was calling you his girlfriend. I told him that you'd be mine eventually, and you are now."

She felt sick to her stomach. Fighting the urge not to throw up, she twisted painfully in her seat to face the window. Why hadn't she brought her wand with her? She was in Auror, for Merlin's Sake! They carried their wands with them everywhere!

But, for good reason, she hadn't expected she'd need it at her Engagement party.

"Don't you think it was ever so clever of me to use a story to kill those girls?" Christopher said. "I know a lot about you, Hermione. I knew how much you loved a good book and so I brought one to life for you, except with my own touch. I hoped you liked it. I knew you were the only one who would understand me, the only one who gets me."

He laid his hand on her thigh. "The Snow White to my Prince Charming."

Hermione tried to ignore the feeling of his hand on her thigh. "Why the little girl?"

Christopher removed his hand, frowning. "Her mother was a Muggleborn and her father was half-blood, just like you and Richard. . . . I was trying to show you the foul thing you would produce if you and Richard were to be married."

He reached up, taking hold of her chin so that she would have to look at him. "We won't have need for children though, Hermione. I'm going to purify you and free your soul. And in the afterlife, all we'll need is each other."

"Why me?"

"You're special Hermione. You couldn't help that you were born deformed. Besides you are smart and beautiful. . . . Even if evil rules your soul for the moment, your perfect. And you're mine."

He let go of her, focusing on maneuvering on the slippery, snowy road. Hermione continued to stare at the window, contemplating her situation. She needed to leave some clue for Malfoy . . . she was sure he was searching for her. She wasn't sure how she knew, but she knew.

Wandless Magic.

She looked down at her bond hands. Wandless magic was hard enough for the most accomplish wizard or witch . . . and she had never attempted it at all, though she had read about it plenty of times.

Maybe if she tried.

_Focus . . . focus . . . focus. . . ._

What was she focusing on?

_She needed to catch Christopher off guard with some spell, any spell._

Closing her eyes, she twisted in her seat and, facing Christopher slightly, she raised her hands and spread her palms.

"Hermione, darling, what are you doing?"

Hermione's eyes snapped open and she glared at him. "_Protego_!"

She gasped in surprise as his head was pushed forcefully sideways, cracking the window. He slumped forward over the steering wheel, unconscious. The car swerved dangerously close to the trees, the forest that surrounded them on either side. Hermione reached over trying to grab the well and keep it steady but it was no use.

She screamed as the car slammed into a tree, sending them spinning into the forest.

* * *

**A/N: So yeah, I'm late. I really do apologize. This weekend and yesterday was hectic. So, here you are. Keep a look out for an update (hopefully) on Thursday.**


	18. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

* * *

Hermione woke up not five minutes after the car finished its plummet. Her arms dangled above her head, awkwardly, her hair falling loose from her bun.

Looking around she realized that they were upside down, the front of the car smashed against a tree and the windows broken. She looked to her right and saw Christopher still passed out, though he had fallen to the ceiling of the car without his seatbelt. She could just see blood on the edge of his hairline.

She reached towards her waist and struggled with the seatbelt, her hands still tied at the wrist. The seat belt unclipped and Hermione fell, curling up so that she landed on her back. Twisting over she began to cut at the ropes, looking over her shoulder every once and a while to make sure that Christopher was still out of it.

The glass cut against her wrist but she ignored, continuing to cut the rope until it fell off. Looking back once more, Hermione reached forward, putting her hands into the snow and pulling her self out of the car. The glass scrapped against her dress, ripping and tearing it along her stomach and in the skirt.

She was freezing, she realized, and limping. Looking down she saw that she had cut her leg badly while crawling out the window. Wincing and wrapping her arms around herself she started to walk though she had no clue where they were.

Then, suddenly feeling as if she was in an incredibly bad horror flick, she looked back.

Christopher was no longer in the car.

Spinning around, Hermione began to run, ignoring the ache in her leg and the fact that the high heels she was wearing were not helping her at all.

A wood cabin loomed in front of her and she rushed towards, hoping to find some help. She pounded on the door as soon as she reached it. "Please! Is anyone there? I need help please!"

She grabbed hold of the door knob, surprised that it opened at her touch. Hesitantly she moved inside, closing the door behind her. Having seen enough scary movies she didn't say another word, knowing that she had made to much noise already.

A faint light flickered in the corner of her eye and she moved towards, assuming it to be a fireplace in the living room.

Of course, needless to say, she was surprised by what she saw.

A Pentagon, a star, was drawn on the floor inside a circle, rose petals and candles dotting each point of the star.

Realizing that he had to have had a place to bring her in the first place, Hermione turned, rushing back towards the door and locking it just before the door knob twisted.

"Oh darling, you're so playful," Christopher said, laughing. "Good thing I have the keys."

Hermione cursed as she heard the metallic jangle, turning and running up the stairs that lay just in front of the door. There was a long hallway, doors on either side but all of them were locked. The front door opened just as Hermione reached the last door, pulling it open quickly and running inside.

Frantically, she looked to find something to block the door with, seeing only a tall bookshelf just next to the door. She was pushing on it just as she heard Christopher cry out, "Come out, come out wherever you are, love."

Leaning against it, she pushed with her back, eventually pushing the bookshelf over in a loud crash, backing away as the doorknob twisted and the door opened just enough for Christopher to peek in. "You silly little minx."

Hermione was trapped and terrified. She didn't have a wand and this man was too strong for her, she was sure. She moved towards the window, opening it and looking out. The ground swam below her for a quick moment until she heard pounding as Christopher crashed against the door with his shoulder, budging the door open a little farther each time.

Strengthening her resolve, she moved up onto the windowsill, putting her legs out first and jumping.

* * *

Draco leaned against the dashboard as Potter sped as fast as he could down the snowy road.

"Can't this thing go any faster?" Draco asked, looking out the window.

"Not unless you want to crash," Potter said. "Look I'm just as worried as you but –"

"Stop the car."

"What?"

"Just stop the car!"

Potter pulled to a quick stop and Draco hopped out the car, running down a rather steep hill.

He could see the car from here and the smoke that came from the hood. He could only assume that this was the car and knew he was right when he kneeled down, drawing a piece of green scrap from the broken window on the passenger side.

Potter came up behind him. "What did you find?"

"They're nearby," Draco said, trying to look into the snow for footprints. "She's hurt but I think he is too."

Potter kneeled down near the passenger window, pointing out a slight imprint in the snow. "These might be the way she walked, but there are probably footprints on the other side."

"I'll follow one and you go get the Aurors, tell them to get out here," Draco said, pulling out his wand. "I'll shoot up red sparks if I find anything."

* * *

Hermione landed on her side, rolling for a minute before she was able to gain her breath and climb to her feet. Her arm felt broken and she was pretty sure it was; it hadn't been a high fall and she had landed in some bushes, but it still hurt when she landed on it.

She ran for a little bit away from the house before stopping, leaning against a tree.

"Do you know there were going to be more?" Christopher said, his voice distant but still loud and clear.

Tears leaked from her eyes as she forced herself to keep moving, trying to stay as quiet as possible, the snow softly crunching beneath her feet. Christopher continued to talk, his voice seemingly coming from nowhere and everywhere at once.

"I wanted to keep you safe, Hermione, from all those that could cause you harm. That friend of yours, that red-headed girl thought she was so pretty and so smart but you are better than them all and I was going to show her. Then I was going to get rid of her husband, the great Harry Potter, just because he was in my way to you. But no, there was one other person who I _really _needed to get rid of. That fool Draco Malfoy. He would have you all to himself if he could, but all he does is cause you pain. I would have rid this world of him for you, saved you from him."

Hermione approached a frozen lake, stopping for a moment. It looked fragile and she was sure it would break as soon as she stepped foot on it.

A branch broke behind her and she turned, seeing Christopher a ways behind her, a manic grin on his face. "You're mine now, Hermione."

She moved onto the ice, hoping that the heels of her shoes wouldn't pierce the ice. Behind her, Christopher moved slowly forward, laughing because he knew she knew he had her. There was no where else to go except forward and she was barely making it there.

Christopher moved onto the ice and Hermione could hear the slight puncture of a crack.

She was going to die.

"Hermione!"

Hermione looked up, seeing Malfoy running towards her, running out towards the dock that hovered just about the lake. A flood of happiness ran through her. "Malfoy," she whispered.

"No!" Christopher shouted. "You are mine!"

He took a hard step forward, sending another crack through the ice which weakened. Hermione fell through the ice, the current sweeping her underneath, tumbling and tearing at her.

She tried to stay still for a moment, pounding on the ice above her head with her good hand. Her lungs were begging for oxygen, having not had enough time to draw breath as she had fallen through.

Hermione pressed her hand against the glass, feeling a warm spot just under her hand. A hole formed in the ice and she could feel the very cold air brush against her fingertips before someone's hand covered her own, wrapping their fingers around her wrist as the hole widened and she was lifted up.

"I've got you, Hermione," Malfoy said. "Just hang on."

Just then a hand grabbed her ankle pulling her back toward the water. She screamed just before her hand slipped from Malfoy's.

Opening her eyes under water she saw Christopher still grinning that manic grin as he sunk.

_He meant to take her with him_.

_If he couldn't have her, no one would._

Rearing back, Hermione struck forward with her foot, kicking his shoulder but still he didn't let go. She kicked again and this time caught him in the nose.

His head jerked back and he looked at her, seemingly surprised as he hand slipped from her ankle and he fell slowly into the darkness of the water, blood drifting from his nose.

She felt Malfoy grab her again and she let herself be pulled out of the water and onto the dock. Malfoy took her face in his hands, his eyes wide and frantic. "Come on, Granger, speak to me," he said.

His hands felt so warm against her cheeks and she knew she was shivering hard, but she felt so warm. . . .

A sob escaped her as he pulled her forward into her arms, running his fingers through her wet hair. Holding her in one arm, he held up the other and shot up red sparks. Putting his wand off to the side, he placed his hand against her cheek again, wiping away her tears and gazing into her eyes and she gazed back.

They remained this way until the others showed up, Harry with blankets and first-aid things while some dredged up Christopher's body from the lake.

* * *

**A/N: Whoa so that was a mouthful to write. I'm so sad because this story's only got like one chapter left. I think I really will cry because I've had so much fun writing this story. Thanks to everyone and get ready for the next chapter.**


	19. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: Not mine!!**

* * *

_**A Couple of Years later. . . .**_

A shrill cry rang out in the night.

Draco pulled his pillow over his head, rolling over onto his back.

"Your turn," mumbled a sleepy voice near his side.

Yawning and groaning, Draco pulled himself from the bed, shuffling out of the bedroom and into the room across the hall. The baby's cries lowered slightly as Draco approached her, smiling softly. He checked her diaper and she wasn't wet and he knew she wasn't hungry because they had just fed her a half an hour ago.

"You just love to wake up mum and dad, huh? No one can sleep if you can't right?"

The little girl whimpered as if to say that, without a doubt, she was the most important person in that house, which she was.

Draco reached down and scooped her up into his arms, resting her head against his chest as he walked around the nursery they had built in his house.

She was precious, little thing, his little Aries. She stared up at him with bright brown eyes like her mum, the dirty blond hair on top of her head already slightly curly. He tickled her stomach lightly and she gave him a toothless smile, kicking her feet lightly.

He loved his daughter beyond anything, and felt the same way about his wife.

Maybe it was because he never thought he could have anyone like them. But he was so happy.

After a while, Aries' eyes began to drift close, and soon she was breathing lightly. He gently set her down in her crib but as soon as he backed away from the crib, she began to whimper. Sighing, he picked her back up and carried her across the hall.

"Look who's here," he said, entering into his room

Granger sat up, a sleepy smile on her face.

Calling her Granger was just as permanent as it always had been, as she still called him Malfoy. Of course, from time to time, they referred to each other with terms of endearment, like 'love' and 'dear', but it wasn't them at all. He could just call her Malfoy, he supposed but that might make things confusing.

He handed Aries to her so he could climb back into the bed, scooting over next to them as Aries clung to her mother's nightshirt.

"Hello darling," Granger said, fondly, cradling the small girl in her arms as leaned back against the headboard. "I suppose we'll have to just hold you till you fall asleep, eh/"

Aries gurgled an affirmative, making Draco smile as he slipped his arm around granger

S shoulder and she leaned into him after pressing a kiss against his lips.

Looking back, Draco could still remember all he had thought and said about the idea of marriage. Potter, Finnigan, and Thomas had laughed all through his wedding and still laughed at him to this day. Merlin he had laughed at himself for a while, be he laughed with Granger now, with her by his side everyday all day and, surprisingly he didn't mind.

And thought they had had their bad times through the good, and their marriage had been unthinkable at the beginning, it seemed impossible to think that they had never once thought of life with the other.

Looking down at his wife and his baby, he realized he wouldn't ever change a thing.

* * *


End file.
